


Root Canal Therapy

by downlookingup



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dentists, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 10:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1895076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downlookingup/pseuds/downlookingup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime and Brienne have a lovely Saturday morning outing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Root Canal Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the JaimeBrienne.com fan fic challenge, in which my prompt was "Root Canal". I decided to give myself a cavity after spending a whole week working on the Whirlwind of Angst that is my ongoing series. Please forgive the wholly unoriginal title. I am absolute shit at naming things.

He was dragging his feet down the hallway of the health center like a little boy, holding the ice pack to his face with a grimace of abject misery. She knew pain put him in a sour mood, his brain having long made the connection between pain and hopelessness—she doesn't like to think about _those days_ —, but this really was too ridiculous. ****

"It's just a root canal, Jaime," she sighed. "It doesn't hurt any more than a regular filling."

"Have _you_ ever had a root canal?" he growled through his gritted teeth.

She wrinkled her nose. "Of course not. I actually brush my teeth." Brienne had taken dental hygiene very seriously after a painful cavity when she was ten. Her cooked denture was a result of a narrow jaw, oversized teeth and a lack of funds in her childhood to get it fixed, but her teeth were as healthy as one could hope for. Jaime, on the other hand...

He glared at her, a gesture more comical than menacing with the giant polka-dotted bag of ice plastered against the side of his jaw. "I brush my teeth!"

"Yes, you do," she agreed, calmly. "And then you get up in the middle of the night and eat half a pack of cookies."

 

* * *

 

The dentist's office looked like a circus had exploded inside. One of the walls had a mural of a giant, garish clown, his painted mouth stretched into a gruesome rictus, and a half-dozen children of all ethnicities danced around him with glee. It reminded her of an old story about a jester who lured children from their beds in the dead of night with a magic flute. In a corner was a bookshelf full to bursting with dirty stuffed toys and the opposite wall had a flat-screen TV showing an episode of some kid's show she didn't recognize. Everything was painted in bright colors with no regard to how they clashed with each other. It was enough to give her a blinding headache.

Jaime snorted next to her. "Do you think he strings the kids' teeth up and wears them around his neck?" It was loud enough to make the receptionist lift her eyes from her work and shoot them a foul look.

"You should be grateful," Brienne muttered. "Dr. Qyburn was the only endodontist in our network available on a Saturday."

"You mean, the only _butcher_."

She elbowed him towards the front desk. "Shut up and go give her your name."

He rolled his eyes at her, stepped forward languorously and exchanged some words with the receptionist. The woman placed a clipboard with some forms in front of him, and he gave her a long-suffering look and waved the stump of right wrist with a shrug that said _I wish I could, but..._ He was perfectly capable of tucking the ice pack under his arm and picking up the damn forms, but the woman was too flustered to realize his joke and she glanced anxiously at Brienne over his shoulder, unsure of what to do.

Cheeks flaming, Brienne hurried over, snatched the forms up and sat down on the nearest chair. Jaime turned away from the desk after thanking the woman, shot Brienne a smirk and slumped down to her right, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing them at his ankles.

She leaned over and hissed in his ear, "You're awful. You know that, don't you?" She rooted through her bag until she found a pen. When she held it out to him, he shook his head and gestured at the ice pack. Brienne let out a huff and started filling out the forms herself.

"You love me when I'm awful," he crooned back.

"The gods know why I bother," she said, trying to fight the smile about to break out in her face. "All you do is embarrass me in public."

His green eyes shone with amusement. "You should be nicer to a cripple like me."

" _'Cripple,'_ " she scoffed. "You _will_ be if you carry on like this."

Jaime finally decided to be quiet, and she wondered for the dozenth time that day how in the world he'd been able to spend the whole morning parroting non-stop, when his tooth was supposed to hurt enough to make them drive two hours all the way out to Harrenhal to see a pediatric dentist. It really was his own fault for ignoring the pain for so long. He'd even gone so far as to go to a dentist and get a diagnosis without telling her. It was only after he'd spent all of Friday night moaning in pain that she'd managed to drag the truth out of him, and as soon as he'd dropped the Tough Guy act, he'd turned into a big baby. 

He was watching the TV now, chuckling softly when the cartoon sponge started tap-dancing. The icepack was resting on his knee and she hoped the receptionist didn't notice. "An absolute god," he said, suddenly.

Brienne looked up at the TV, wondering if it was something to do with the show, then blinked at him. "What?"

He gave her a sly smile and nodded towards the form. "'Sex'? An absolute god."

"You _arrogant_ — What about 'Age'?"

"Like fine wine," he said, puffing his chest out.

"Like soda," she shot back, "flat and tasteless."

Jaime laughed and turned towards her until his lips were brushing her ear. "That's not what you said last night when I came in your mouth."

The reason for Brienne's embarrassment must have been writ large on her burning face—the stern receptionist cleared her throat loudly and went back to clacking the keys of her computer. Jaime smiled haughtily at the woman and leaned back in his own chair.

"'Allergies,'" Brienne read. "Behaving in public."

He nodded solemnly and crossed his arms over his chest. "You win this round, Tarth."

 

* * *

 

"Jaime Lannister?" A small balding man in a white coat appeared at the door and glanced at the two of them questioningly. When the little boy he was expecting failed to materialize, a small smile appeared on his lips. " _Mr._ Lannister?"

Jaime stood up and handed Brienne the melted ice pack. "That's me."

Dr. Qyburn let out a soft laugh. "You're a rather big boy, aren't you?" Jaime gave him a tight-lipped smile in response. She imagined a speech bubble appearing over his head full of nasty expletives. "Come on, then," the doctor said. "Your mother will still be here when you come out."

Jaime stuck his tongue out at her as he retreated, giving her a look which promised to make her pay back the dentist's jabs with interest. She blew a kiss at him before he disappeared behind the door.

 

* * *

 

"How'd it go?" They were retracing their steps through the medical center back to their car. She was starving, but Dr. Qyburn had said he needed to wait three hours before eating again, so she would wait too. The drive back to King's Landing was nothing to look forward to, but she longed to get home, eat something and crawl into bed, preferably not by herself.

"I can't feel my lips," he mumbled.

"The anesthesia will fade soon enough." She reached over to take his hand and give it a comforting squeeze, and she caught the mischievous glint in his eyes one second too late.

"Help me out here." Jaime pulled her towards him and smacked a kiss on her mouth, wet and cold and sloppy, and she couldn't help but laugh and nudge him away. They were standing in front of a pharmacy and there was a long line of people inside, staring at them, and she blushed. Jaime took no notice. He smiled at her, his lips looking comically stiff. "Nope. Still numb. Again." The second kiss was still strange but less clumsy, and when she opened her mouth, he darted his tongue inside and wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her against him. It made her stomach flutter, and she captured his lower lip between her teeth and bit down hard, forcing a laugh out of him.

"Did you feel _that_?" she asked.

"I think so, but you might need to do it again to make sure." He closed his eyes and puckered his lips and she planted a chaste peck on them.

"Later," she said. And on a whim, she whispered in his ear, "Maybe when your mouth wakes up you can put it to good use." 

Brienne leaned back to watch his face, ignoring the blush tingling her face, and Jaime gave her a bright grin, the one he never showed anyone else. It sent a sharp thrill through her whole body. "That's my girl," he said, and kissed her for a long time.


End file.
